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They don’t get to do this a lot, so when Maddie called and asked if she could take him to a nice dinner, Buck immediately agreed.
He assumes it has something to do with the fact that she hasn’t been able to send the breakup brigade yet. Buck was seriously dreading a knock on his door that would start a procession of well meaning friends there to distract him.
Luckily, he wouldn’t know even if she tried. He’s been spending most of his time at Eddie’s house ever since the breakup, because Eddie just– gets it. When he wants to wallow, Eddie will commiserate with him. When he wants to dance–
Okay, Buck never really feels the need to dance, but Eddie’s been dancing, and could Buck really call himself Eddie’s best friend if he didn’t at least shuffle his feet and sway his hips a bit?
Buck never thought he would be the type of person to have an impromptu dance party. He also never thought we would be the type of person to still be single at thirty-two. So.
“This is– woah,” Buck says as Maddie leads him into the lobby, a grin plastered on her face.
Woah doesn’t begin to explain this place, and this is just the lobby. The floors are marble and shiny enough that they’re probably recently polished; it’s the sort of clean that is so impeccable that the rich people who undoubtedly frequent here aren’t burdened by something as unsightly as a janitor. The walls are deep black– also shiny– with golden accents running along the length of them. At the very top, a modern but expensive-looking glass chandelier hangs over their heads.
“Are we celebrating something?” Buck asks.
“This place is new,” Maddie supplies, a cheeky note to her voice that only crops up when she knows something he doesn’t and she’s going to tell him. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice, and this is a little fancy–”
“A little?”
“It’s a nice place, fine! I just thought we could treat ourselves,” she explains. She loops both hands around his arm and continues to smile up at him. “Or that I could treat you.”
“As long as you’re paying,” Buck jokes. “Okay. What’s my surprise?”
“Surprise?” Maddie releases a fake scoff. “Can’t a girl just catch up with her brother?”
“We catch up with a bottle of wine and a rotisserie chicken straight off the bone on your couch. Not this,” Buck says, and to really hone in on his point, he gestures to a tall mirror on the right side of the wall with an intricate golden frame that matches the walls. Maddie narrows her eyes at him in the mirror and knocks her hip gently against his.
“The restaurant is on the roof. They just did a ton of renovations to the building, and now this place is going to be LA’s next hot spot. I wanted to get a reservation before Oprah or Taylor Swift shows up and it’s impossible.”
“Okay. We can be fancy people for the night,”
“Just for the night,” Maddie agrees, patting him. She leads the way to the elevators– sleek, black, new, who’s surprised– and clicks the up button. Even the buttons are black and gold, emitting a warm circle of light around the one Maddie pressed.
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Buck muses. “Me, you, a bottle of wine and no rotisserie chicken.”
“Right,” Maddie says. A little suspiciously.
“Don’t tell me you’re going vegan,” Buck groans. She just smiles and shrugs her shoulders.
Sisters are so weird.
“So, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Maddie begins, a mounting excitement to her voice. “I was going to wait until we’re settled at our table, but I think–”
“This isn’t about Tommy, right?”
“Ew.” Maddie blinks at him. “No. Besides, we talked about that. You don’t love him, you’ve never watched Glee, and he lost the best thing that’s ever going to happen to him. What more is there to talk about?”
The elevator opens and they step inside.
“O…kay,” Buck says. “Then what?”
“Well, if you let me get there– wait, ugh,” She begins to frantically press the close door button as a group of three women begin to make their way to the elevator. She just smiles at them as she closes the door in their faces, then presses the button for the very top floor.
He waits a few moments for the elevator to start moving, and then Buck laughs, “You’re nasty.”
“This is a private discussion!”
“This,” he says, pointing a finger up to the ceiling, “is an elevator.”
“Okay. Buck.” Maddie takes a deep, steadying breath in through her nose. “I was going to tell you that Chim and I are–”
The elevator shakes.
Buck doesn’t even have time to blink in the moments between standing alone and grabbing Maddie’s shoulder. She gasps and they both freeze, eyes wide. As if they could see what was happening, they’re both looking wildly around the elevator for whatever caused that. They’re no longer moving up anymore, but at the very least, they aren’t moving down.
“Are we stuck?” Maddie asks, breathless. One hand is pressed to her heart, and the other is resting on her stomach.
“I don’t–”
The elevator shakes again, but this time, a loud grinding fills his ears and he’s washed over with dread as he realizes they’re slipping down. The lights flicker and shut. They aren’t falling– yet, his mind unhelpfully provides– but whatever just happened can’t be attributed to a small error. Something is very wrong.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Maddie is whimpering into his chest. He can’t see her face, but he can feel every bit of her shaking. “What floor are we on?”
“The power went out– there’s– there’s no number, but– it was only a few seconds– it can’t be more than– than four, right? And we went down a bit before– it could be less–”
“Buck–”
“We’re just stuck, okay? It’s–”
Then there's the harsh dip of losing ground beneath his feet.
Maddie screams as he tugs her into his chest.
It’s the only thing he can focus on in the seconds it takes to crash: Maddie’s scream. He can brace for impact for the pain that’s sure to follow, but there’s nothing in the world that could prepare him for the pure terror that rips from her vocal cords while he knows there’s nothing he can do but hold her.
There’s another loud grinding, a fierce struggle with the governor mechanism that attempts to slow their fall, and then the harsh slam against the safety buffers at the bottom of the elevator shaft. Buck is knocked from his feet– he literally flies off the ground, Maddie still in his arms– and he does everything he can to absorb the shock instead of her as he slams against the floor.
Heat spreads through his shoulder. It’s not exactly pain, but he knows that’s just adrenaline. Maddie’s forehead collides with his face as her head whips backwards and forward again.
And then there’s nothing. No loud grinding, no light, no movement.
“Buck?” Maddie groans, horrified as she pulls herself off of him.
“I’m okay– are you– are you–”
“I’m fine,” she breathes out, a far-off quality to her voice. She’s clutching her stomach and breathing heavily as she leans herself against the wall.
Despite the protest from his left arm and shoulder, he also sits himself up.
“Your face!”
As soon as Maddie says it, he registers the sting in his nose and the warm liquid running down his chin. It doesn’t matter to him, not really, because there’s a splatter of his blood on her forehead and a blooming bruise.
“You hit your head?”
“On your face!” Maddie whines back, terrified.
There’s more to say, but then the lights flicker back on. Buck scoots himself to the door and reaches up to slam on the red-outlined emergency button. Instantly, the distinct noise of a bell fills the confined place.
“Okay,” Buck exhales. “Okay, help is on the way.”
Maddie laughs, a little delirious.
Buck stands himself up. “Maybe I can get these doors open.”
“Just sit,”
“You need to get your head checked out. You could have– have whiplash, internal bruising, or internal bleeding–”
“I know,” Maddie warbles. His head snaps to her. She hasn’t moved, but her eyes have fluttered close. There are tears on her cheeks as she pulls her knees in closer to herself and drops her head down, arms still crossed protectively over her middle. Watery, panicked, she continues, “I know.”
Nothing prepares you for hearing your sister scream, encapsulated by terror. Nothing prepares you for seeing your sister sob, either, curled into a ball on the floor of an elevator-turned-death-trap.
Buck takes a step forward.
There’s a loud bang from above them. Buck looks up, but whatever it was is happening higher above them in the shaft. Maybe help is here? But they’re definitely on the ground floor. Why would they need to come from above?
He doesn’t even get the chance to ask the question before the top of the elevator collapses inwards.
He thinks this: Maddie.
He thinks this:
Nothing.
Nothing, actually. He thinks nothing, because he literally doesn’t understand what the fuck just happened to him.
He’s on the ground. The top of the elevator didn’t collapse inward.
Something long and big and metal crashed through it.
Buck isn’t just on the ground. He’s pinned to the ground.
He’s pinned by his leg, right in the middle of his thigh. His leg. He’s pinned by his leg. He’s pinned by his leg, and he’s been here before, and he has the single delirious thought that this is better than a fire truck. His ears are ringing. Maddie is above his face, crying, saying something, but at least she isn’t screaming this time. If she is, he can’t hear it. And if she’s moved over to him, then she’s probably not hurt. Maddie is fine. That’s good. He’s pinned by his leg. That’s not good. But Maddie is fine. Maddie is going to be okay.
“Ouch,” Buck says, aiming for funny and falling flat. He’s already fallen flat on the elevator floor. He’s pinned to the elevator floor. He’s pinned by his leg.
“Ouch, right, Buck,” Maddie says, smiling, smiling like she wants to make him smile, smiling even though her eyes are red. “Keep talking, okay? I’m going to look at your leg.”
“It smells weird,” Buck says. Trying to say anything. It hurts. He’s pinned by his leg. Of course it hurts. Not as bad as a firetruck. Just a metal beam in an elevator. He’s survived worse odds. He’s pinned by his leg.
“You’re bleeding. I can’t tell if your femur is broken,” Maddie catalogs. She’s strict and serious, now, locked in to the problem in front of her. She’s talking to him like she’s just a nurse, and he’s just her patient, and this is strictly business. That’s good.
Maddie is a nurse. Buck trusts Maddie. She wasn’t there last time Buck was pinned. Eddie was. He held his hand. Last time Buck was pinned, Eddie held his hand. He’s pinned again. Pinned by his leg. Femur, this time. Not tibia. He’s working his way up. Up his leg. He’s pinned by his leg, again.
He looks at Maddie. Tears are dripping down her cheeks. And her forehead. Except that doesn’t make sense. It’s sweat. It’s warm in here.
“Rubber,” Buck gasps out, unbidden.
“What?”
“It’s warm in here. Smells like rubber. Fire, Mads. Rubber. Electrical fire.”
“What?” Maddie says, much more incredulous, this time. She looks up at where the beam is sticking through the elevator. She screams out, “What is that?”
“Maddie. Maddie.”
“This is ridiculous, don’t you think? I bet they’ll all have a laugh when you’re back–”
“Maddie. The elevator is filling with smoke. You have to move the beam to get out. I don’t think–”
“No. No, then I’m not moving the beam. They– they can cut it, or–”
“It’ll take too long–”
“Buck– Evan, I can’t–”
“Maddie, they’re gonna be here soon. I don’t want them to wait to help. Not a second. Okay? I love you so much–”
“Wait, wait, stop–”
“I love you so much, okay?”
“I’m not leaving, Evan. I can’t. I can’t leave you.”
“Maddie. Mads–”
“I-”
The doors of the elevator start to creak and groan. Buck can’t see it– all he can see is all metal and Maddie– but by the way Maddie’s mouth drops open and relief etches itself into every inch of her body, he knows help is here.
He watches the lighting shift on her nose and cheekbones as the doors are pried open. Not a lot, by how quickly the noise stops.
“Bobby,” she whimpers out.
“Maddie?” Buck can hear the firefighter’s voice, laced with shock and worry. And it is Bobby. It’s Bobby.
“Buck, you’re gonna be okay,” Maddie says, cradling his cheek in her hand as the other one runs through his hair, petting him. “It’s the one-eighteen. You’re gonna be okay,”
“Eddie?” Eddie held his hand. Last time Buck was pinned, Eddie held his hand.
“Is– is Eddie here?” Maddie asks instantly.
He can hear “Buck!” shouted in the familiar timber of Eddie’s voice at the same time he hears Chim yell, “ Maddie!”
“We’re gonna get you out of here. What’s the plan?” Chimney says, too fast, too panicked, too terrified, too close to this.
“We can’t get the door opened further than this. It’s blocked by the beam,” Bobby explains, cool and composed, but not really. But trying really hard to be.
“Cut the beam!” Chim demands.
“No!” Maddie argues. “No, Buck is pinned. I think– I think it’s the only thing stopping the bleeding. It’s his– his thigh, Bobby. If it’s his femoral artery–”
Bobby cuts her off. “Let’s not go there until we need to go there,”
“Maddie. Maddie, is–?” Chim starts, and Maddie starts shaking her head.
“We’re fine. I think we’re fine,”
“Buck is not fine!” That’s Eddie. He sounds– pissed. Also terrified. Terrified, like Chimney. Panicked, like Chimney. Too close to this, like Chimney. He can’t hold Buck’s hand. That’s one of the only things Buck remembers from last time he was pinned. Pinned by his leg. He couldn’t focus on anything but the pain and where Eddie was holding him. He wants Eddie to hold his hand. He doesn’t want Eddie in this elevator. He doesn’t want Maddie in this elevator. But he wants Eddie to hold his hand.
Buck’s eyes trail up to the ceiling. It’s getting warmer, warmer, warmer. Smoke is starting to enter the elevator. The elevator is on fire. Maddie coughs. Smoke. Smoke.
“If Buck’s femoral artery is nicked, we can’t move this beam without risking him,” Bobby says.
Chimney counters, “We can’t get to him to help if we don’t move the beam.”
“Cut through the doors!” Eddie shouts.
“Okay. Okay. Eddie, saws and jaws.”
“On it.”
Smoke. Maddie coughs. Smoke. She tears off her cardigan and presses it into his leg, into his pinned leg, into his leg where it hurts, and he screams. She winces like it hurts her worse. She apologizes. She presses his leg.
“Cap, we gotta get her out. The smoke inhalation–”
“I know. We can stick a mask through here and–”
“She’s pregnant!”
World stops. Leg keeps hurting, but the world stops.
Bobby says nothing. Maddie cries harder. Chimney says nothing. Buck says nothing, but his brain says everything. Maddie’s pregnant. They fell, she hit her head, there’s fire, she’s pregnant.
“Move the beam,” Buck croaks. Dies a little inside as he says it. He’s okay with it, this time.
“Here!” Eddie’s back.
He’s glad Eddie wasn’t here when Buck decided he’s okay that he might die.
It would have been harder to make that decision if Eddie had to listen to it. He would’ve done it anyway, but it would have been harder. He wants Eddie to hold his hand. He wishes he had asked Eddie to hold his hand when he wasn’t pinned by a fire truck or a beam. He wishes he had asked Eddie to hold his hand when he wasn’t dying. He wishes he had asked Eddie to hold his hand. He wishes his leg was free. He wishes he was.
“Change of plans. We’re moving the beam, opening the doors, then you and Hen are going in to treat him.”
“What?” Eddie hisses. “No, there’s no–”
“She’s… pregnant,” Buck forces.
“Buck,” Eddie says, intense, reacting immediately to his voice. Then, much more desperate, “ Buck.”
He can’t see Eddie’s face, but he can imagine it. He can imagine the tension in his eyebrows, the intensity of his big brown eyes, the way he’s hunched at the door, the way his jaw is twitching. Buck knows him so well. He can’t see him, but he knows him.
And chances are, he won’t bleed out immediately if the beam is moved. At the very least, Eddie will come. Eddie will help him. At the very least, Eddie will hold his hand.
Buck isn’t aware of much after that. It’s so hot, and his leg hurts, and Maddie is still petting his head.
“I love you, Buck. I love you so much.”
He hears that. He hears her say that, before she goes. She says it back. She loves him.
The world is swishy and washy. Buck doesn’t have the words for it. He doesn’t really have those. Words, he means. Every time he tries to make sense of the world in front of him, it changes. Maddie isn’t petting his head anymore. Did she leave him? Yes, she did, she said she loves him, that was goodbye.
“I love you,” It’s like he can still hear her. She sounds wrong. Swishy. Swishy. Washy. “Say it back. I need you to say it back.”
Swishy. Washy.
“Open your eyes, Buck,” says Eddie.
Buck blinks. Tries to see him. He knows this face. But– “Where…?”
“She’s with Chim, they’re okay,”
“My hand,”
He knows this face. He doesn’t like it crying.
“Does it hurt?”
Buck squeezes. There’s already a weight in his palm.
Eddie is holding his hand.
It’s all fine, then.
Eddie holds his hand.
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Buck wakes up in pain. Maddie and Chimney are leaning on each other, asleep, in two chairs on one side of the room. Eddie is asleep, too, except his head is resting on Buck’s bedside. Next to his head, their fingers are locked in each other.
Eddie holds his hand.
Buck squeezes.
Eddie jolts awake.
He has to blink a few times to orient himself, but Buck takes pleasure in watching his face. His eyes dart first to their hands, then to the screen taking Buck’s vitals, and then to Buck’s face. As soon as their eyes meet, Eddie’s face breaks open into the most disbelieving grin. The sort of grin where Buck can see his two sharp teeth. The sort of grin where Buck can feel it in his chest.
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, reverent, like the word is precious, like Buck is.
“I’m sorry,” Buck rasps out. His throat is dry. How long has he been out?
“You were perfect,” Eddie says immediately. He licks his lips. “Uh– Maddie’s fine. Baby is all checked out, and they’re great. Karen brought Chris and Denny over to Maddie’s place to stay with Jee tonight.”
“Okay,” Buck breathes out, because that was the next thing he was going to ask. Of course, of course, Eddie would know what to tell him before he even opened his mouth with the question. “My leg?”
“They were able to stop the bleeding. The– the bone is fractured. It’s going to suck, but I can– I’m going to help you.”
“No,” Buck answers, immediately. “You’re doing your whole joy-journey thing, I don’t want to be–”
“Nothing would make me happier, Buck,” Eddie says. It’s so definitive, so raw, so complete, that Buck has nothing to do but snap his mouth shut and stare.
“I love you. Say it back. I need you to say it back.”
Buck stares. Stares, and stares some more. He’s still tired– whatever drugs he was given, he’s absolutely feeling. He wants to go back to sleep already, but the memory, however foggy it was, suddenly hits him clear as day. Maddie had said that to him after she left the elevator, which doesn’t make sense. The beam moved, the door opened, Maddie left, Eddie and Hen came in. Buck was disoriented, but he knew a bit of what was going on around him.
Buck stares.
“It was you,”
Eddie frowns. “What did I do?”
“You told me you love me,”
Eddie’s face goes slack. His grip on Buck’s hand falters, so he squeezes again, making sure Eddie doesn’t move.
Very slowly, Eddie opens his mouth. Buck is very patient, even when nothing comes out for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more.
Eddie says, “It was you,”
Buck raises an eyebrow. “I’m pretty positive, actually, that I didn’t–”
“The– my– my ‘joy-journey’,” Eddie clarifies. He squeezes Buck’s hand back, then. “It was to you. It’s always going to be to you.”
Buck is so tired. But he’s safe, and Eddie holds his hand.
So he says it back.
Eddie’s still there the next time he wakes up.